


Twenty two

by maniac_pixie_dreamgirl



Series: Red [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:37:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maniac_pixie_dreamgirl/pseuds/maniac_pixie_dreamgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Monday morning and they are both starting their shift when he finds out how badly Eponine regrets finding a new roommate. Turns out that, if your childhood friend that you haven’t seen in 10 years asks you if she can move in with you, the right answer is: NO! Otherwise the guy you’re obsessed with will get obsessed with her. At least that’s what happened to Eponine.</p>
<p>College AU. Thirteen friends. Five love stories. One cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty two

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: lovely notgoodnotnicejustright helped me make it better. Best beta ever, thank you SO MUCH xxx

It’s Monday morning and they are both starting their shift when Grantaire finds out how badly Eponine regrets finding a new roommate. Turns out that if your "childhood friend" that you haven’t seen in ten years asks you if she can move in with you, the right answer is: NO! Otherwise the guy you’re obsessed with will get obsessed with her. At least that’s what happened to Eponine.

"Marius just dropped by to return some books and she was there with her blond hair and sweet smile. With her long legs and big breasts. In her pink dress! And he looked at her like she was an angel. Like she was Castiel and he was Dean Fucking Winchester! Instalove, struck by lightning my ass. This isn’t Twilight. People can’t fall in love so fast!!!”

“You can,” mutters Grantaire.

It was true. Eponine fell in love with Marius the second he saved her. They were both fifteen and she got caught shoplifting in H&M. Marius, a complete stranger who was just passing by, convinced the shop manager not to press charges against her. Not only that, he also paid for the dress she tried to steal. Ever since then she had eyes only for him. Unfortunately he did not seem to notice or reciprocate her feelings.

“Promise that you won’t like her more than you like me,” she demands, tying an apron around her tiny waist.

She’s looking utterly miserable today. There’s no sign of makeup on her face, her skin is disturbingly pale and her usually beautiful hair is tangled and a little greasy. She still is stunning though, and Grantaire wants to hug her, but he knows she’ll take it as a sign of pity, so instead he just grins.

“Cross my heart and hope to die. I just don’t understand… I thought you liked her.”

“I do! And that’s the problem. It’s impossible not to like her. She is sweet and charming and her eyes are fucking gigantic. She looks like freakin’ Rapunzel or something. She’s like a puppy. Everyone loves puppies. It would be so much easier if I didn’t like her. I would just tell her to fuck off and kick her skinny ass out of the flat and find a new roommate.”

_That’s his Eponine _, thinks Grantaire, _even depressed out of her mind, she’s still feisty. _She’s a firecracker, that one.____

____“Preferably one that doesn’t look like a movie star?”_ _ _ _

____“Preferably one that looks like a seventy year old woman. And smells like one too,” says Eponine struggling with window blinds._ _ _ _

____“I don’t know, why you worry about Cosette stealing Marius away from you, when I’m clearly a bigger threat,” jokes Grantaire with a face splitting smile. He shakes his head and nudges Eponine with his elbow._ _ _ _

____“Don’t worry my friend; you are not Marius’s type.”_ _ _ _

____“I wouldn’t underestimate me if I were you. I can be pretty irresistible when I want to,” Grantaire flutters his eyelashes vividly. For the first time that day, Eponine laughs._ _ _ _

____“Then how come you’re not banging the shit out of our Fearless Leader right now?” she asks with a giggle still in her eyes._ _ _ _

____“Because I’m not interested in jumping his royal bones. I bet they reek of morality”_ _ _ _

____“Keep on telling yourself that. Let me just remind you of that time when you were sleeping on my couch, whispering his name while having the biggest boner I’ve ever seen.”_ _ _ _

____Grantaire doesn’t answer, instead he jumps like a cat and attacks his friend with a dirty dishcloth. Eponine squeaks horribly and tries to hide behind the counter. She is too slow though and Grantaire messes her hair with his right hand. They are both laughing now, their eyes sparkling with friendship and sense of understanding. Grantaire stands up smoothing the wrinkles on a black t-shirt with a name-tagged pinned crookedly just below his collar. The shop is silent for a minute._ _ _ _

____“So you're sure you won’t like her more than me?” asks Eponine. Her bangs are sticking to her forehead, so she removes them with one stroke of her hand._ _ _ _

____“It is physically impossible for me to like anyone more than you. Let alone another girl. So stop whining and get to work.”_ _ _ _

____He smiles again and presses a reassuring kiss on the top of his friend’s head. As always, she smells like coconuts._ _ _ _

____“I’m glad you’re my friend,” says Eponine._ _ _ _

____And Grantaire is glad too. She is one of the few good things in his life that he actually cares about. They met in high school, both struggling with money, both misunderstood, both mad at the rest of the world, unloading the anger in the wrong way. They sat next to each other in detention so often it became a habit. Finally she started talking to him. And he understood her. For the first time in her live Eponine had met someone who, not only listened to her, but also understood what she was going through. Grantaire was just as messed up as she. He couldn’t accept who he was, she couldn’t accept who her parents were. Eponine felt that she wasn’t good at anything, Grantaire felt like he was good for nothing. They both needed saving, so they saved each other. They found a job at the Musain Café, a big coffee shop owned by Musichetta, the most amazing person they’ve ever met. She had strange, captivating eyes and mysterious smile. Without any doubts or needless questions she offered them job on the spot, and they were forever grateful for that. Even though they were both students now, (Eponine majoring in journalism and Grantaire struggling with his art) they still worked there, serving coffee, selling cupcakes and sharing secrets._ _ _ _

____“Should we open now?” asks Eponine, bringing him back from memory lane. Grantaire looks at the clock on the wall, it’s nearly seven a.m._ _ _ _

____“Yeah. I still can believe that I’m up at this ungodly hour.”_ _ _ _

____“I still can’t believe that you’re sober,” Eponine smiles and changes the sign on the door to say 'OPEN'._ _ _ _

____Grantaire doesn’t tell her that he had a beer before coming there. She's his best friend, but it doesn’t mean she has to know everything._ _ _ _

____✳✳✳_ _ _ _

____Jehan is his last customer of the day. Eponine finishes her work early on Mondays- she has an evening class, creative writing or something similar. She is extremely good at research, but she feels that her writing skills need a little improvement, which of course is not true. Silly, overambitious Eponine._ _ _ _

____“Can we expect you at our meeting tonight?” asks Jehan, finishing his herbal tea. His ginger hair is flooded with little daisies today. He sits just next to the counter, scribbling words of love and poetry in his red notebook. They are inseparable, Jehan and his little red notebook. It’s as if he’s got another organ._ _ _ _

____Grantaire shrugs. He does not feel like coming – he is tired, sleepy and too sober to function._ _ _ _

____" Come on, R! Enjolras says it’s important.”_ _ _ _

____“For Enjolras, every meeting is important. He breathes, bleeds and defecates revolution. It’s like he’s 70% water, 30% psycho.”_ _ _ _

____“Complain all you want, I still know you’re gonna be there.” Jehan ties an awful looking, bright orange scarf around his neck and heads towards to the door. “You never missed a meeting.”_ _ _ _

____“I really need to get drunk now,” says Grantaire closing the door behind him._ _ _ _

____✳✳✳_ _ _ _

____But Jehan is right, he is going to be there. Late, drunk and in a very foul mood, but he climbs those life-threatening stairs to Enjolras’s flat. (Well it’s not only Enjolras’s, Jehan and Combeferre live there too, but they call it Enjolras’s). He doesn’t bother with knocking, the door is never closed. Before entering, Grantaire, always an actor, puts a fake smile on his face. All of his friends are already there. Friends, plural. Grantaire was never popular, so after nearly 3 years of hanging out with this bunch, he is still glad and a little surprised that he can call them that- his friends. He sets his eyes on every one of them and counts them in his head like a kindergarten teacher._ _ _ _

____First, warm and fuzzy Courfeyrac. His face bright like a sun, his eyebrows like two caterpillars, his smile contagious. He’s the one that listens to Grantaire’s drunk ramblings in the middle of the night. The one that always makes them do stupid, but potentially awesome things._ _ _ _

____Next, innocent-eyed Joly. Hypochondriac, future epidemiologist. Always with a first-aid kit that's so full, that it can't stay shut._ _ _ _

____Third is totally bald Bossuet- Joly’s roommate/best friend/ not-boyfriend-but-really-a-boyfriend. The most unlucky person in the world. If there’s a bird flying by, Bossuet will get shat on, if there’s a random hole in the pavement, Bossuet will trip. It’s always raining on Bossuet’s parade._ _ _ _

____Musichetta is Grantaire’s aforementioned boss and Bossuet’s girlfriend. Something about her presence makes Grantaire want to grovel. He could swear, she was a queen in her previous life._ _ _ _

____Fifth, Marius, the love of Eponine’s life. If Grantaire had to describe Marius in two words they would be freckled and naïve. He’s sweet and caring, and has more courage in him than he’s willing to admit. Grantaire knows he shouldn’t like the guy, that’s making Eponine cry her eyes at nights, but he just can’t help himself._ _ _ _

____Then, ridiculous Feuilly and his obsessions with fans, Poland and most recently- with Taylor Swift. He’s and oddball and Grantaire likes that._ _ _ _

____Bahorel is a little shady, sarcastic, and breathtakingly handsome. Poster lover-boy and Grantaire’s drinking buddy. Whenever he feels like drinking his brains out he texts Bahorel._ _ _ _

____Jehan, who is terribly dressed as always, this time with a tiara on his head. Little poet, big romantic. He’s got the eyes in the size of a planet and a heart to match them._ _ _ _

____Combeferre has glasses on his nose and a smile on his lips- Enjolras’ best friends and the smartest cookie in the jar. The only one with some common sense left._ _ _ _

____His Eponine. Beautiful and brilliant. Grantaire frowns, she shouldn’t be here, she should be writing something terribly creative. And she’s holding hands with the prettiest girl in the world. _That must be Cosette _, thinks Grantaire, admiring her golden hair, pouty lips and fair skin. He understood instantly, why his best friend was so worried, this girl was something special.___ _ _ _

______And last but not least, Enjolras. Every time Grantaire sees him, he finds it hard to believe that this marble statue is human. That those golden ringlets are, in fact, soft and smooth, not finger burning and made out of sun (not that he ever touched them, he wouldn’t dare). Those eyes with majesty flickering in them, those lips always tensed, on guard, waiting to say something awe inspiring, that all of that is real._ _ _ _ _ _

______Enjolras is their leader, their commander, the one that brought them together. He is their sun, Combeferre their Mercury, closest to him and never really leaving his presence. Grantaire is Pluto, so far away, neglected, deprived of the warmth and not even a planet. But even as Pluto, he gravitates towards him, every fiber of his skin wanting to get closer._ _ _ _ _ _

______For a moment Grantaire looks at his friends, lost in his thoughts, not noticing the way they stand- in a straight line, with their eyes glued to the drunkard. Then, his mind takes notice of a banner hanging behind them._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fuck! Not another intervention!” Grantaire bristles like a scared cat and attempts to quickly leave the room before his friends can attack him with AA flyers._ _ _ _ _ _

______But just before he leaves he catches a glimpse of a cake on the table, the oh-so-cliché red party cups and blowouts. He reads the banner._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Happy Birthday Grantaire!” they all shout._ _ _ _ _ _

______His eyes grow wide, his eyebrows disappear under his black mop of hair. He tries to remember what date it is, but fails.. He turns his hand to look at the watch, but remembers he doesn’t own one. Finally Courfeyrac, who’s laughing like crazy now, takes out a camera and takes a snapshot of Grantaire’s confused face._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Happy Birthday!” They all again yell in union. And before Grantaire can take it all in, before he can say anything, Eponine, Jehan and Courfeyrac pin him down to the ground with birthday kisses blended with wild cackle. And in that very moment, for just a second, Grantaire doesn’t feel like fucking Pluto. He feels almost like the sun._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Did you really forget your own birthday you twat?” asks Bahorel with a half-finished drink in his hand._ _ _ _ _ _

______Grantaire nods and everyone laughs._ _ _ _ _ _

______“That’s so Grantaire!” says Bossuet. “Musichetta and Joly made you a cake. You need to blow out the candles and make a wish.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“If I were you, I would wish to finally get laid.” Bahorel sends him a sly smile._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Why? Are you offering?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Sorry buddy, I am straight as a nail. But when I decide to join the other side you’ll be my first choice”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“JUST BLOW OUT THE CANDLES ALREADY! I DON’T WANT TO DIE OUT OF A CARBON MONOXIDE POISONING._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You study medicine, you know it’s not even possible, Joly.” says Combeferre, trying to suppress a smile and failing in doing so._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What if, the flat burns? I’m just being cautious”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Grantaire feels the warmth sticking to his bones and for once it has very little to do with the alcohol. He looks at his friends. What more could he wish for? His eyes as usual wander to Enjolras. The Fearless Leader winks at him jokingly. Grantaire’s heart speeds up; he knows what his going to wish for. He blows out all of the candles in one go._ _ _ _ _ _

______The party is a blast._ _ _ _ _ _

______The last thing Grantaire remembers is Feuilly hijacking the music player. From then on it was only: “I don’t know about youuuu…… But I’m feeling twenty twooooooo…..”_ _ _ _ _ _

______✳✳✳_ _ _ _ _ _

______He wakes up with a splitting headache and a sense of dread. He knows that something went terribly wrong last night. There’s scent of guilt clinging to his skin and he can tell that he fucked something up. Fucked up badly. Every molecule of his body is begging him not to open his eyes. He’s tired and feels like the four riders of the Apocalypse just dragged him by their horses across town._ _ _ _ _ _

______He sits up, which is really a terrible mistake, and looks around. He’s not in his flat that much is clear. He’s also not wearing his clothes, or any other clothes for that matter._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fuck! What the fuck happened yesterday?!” He asks himself, trying to put together his few scraps of memories together._ _ _ _ _ _

______He remembers drinking. There was a lot of drinking yesterday. Toasts in his name, a drinking game that Courfeyrac insisted on, few glasses of whiskey when everyone else was dancing. Yep, there definitely was a lot of drinking- hence the hangover. But why the guilt? Ignoring the desert in his mouth, he tries to focus on the blurry images in his mind._ _ _ _ _ _

______With a sinking heart he recalls tears gathering up in Eponine’s eyes as she watched drunken Marius pushing his tongue down Cosette’s throat. It was official- Marius confessed and very incoherently asked Cosette out. She said yes. Everyone cheered. Everyone except for Eponine and Grantaire._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m sorry 'Taire, but I think I will go home now…” She said, her voice failing her._ _ _ _ _ _

______“ I’ll come with you.” He whispered, but she dismissed his offer with a weak smile._ _ _ _ _ _

______“It’s your day. Have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow.” And just like that she was gone._ _ _ _ _ _

______It still doesn’t explain why he is here in… he looks around… Enjolras’s room. Because now, when his brain decided to start working again, he recognizes the pinboard exploding with political manifestos, social flyers and business cards. He identifies bookcases chock full with neatly organized books. He knows the red carpet, mahogany desk and pile of records towering to the celling. In that very moment Grantaire knows, he just knows that he crossed the line. He decides to flee. Forgetting about the lack of clothing, he runs out of the room and crashes into something. Something that strangely resembles marble._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I see you’ve woken up.” Enjolras’ mouth is pressed into a thin line. His eyes are dark with disapproval. Grantaire remembers._ _ _ _ _ _

______✳✳✳_ _ _ _ _ _

______The party was nearly ending, Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta went home. Cosette and Marius were sitting in the corner, their hands tangled together, their eyes drunk with happiness. Feuilly and Courfeyrac were still dancing to Taylor Swift, their movements a little bit sloppy now. Bahorel was sleeping on the couch, too intoxicated to go back to his own flat. Grantaire tried to get to the kitchen, he needed another beer or maybe even two. In the kitchen Jehan, Combeferre and Enjolras were talking._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m glad you’ve agreed on having the party here.” Said Jehan. “Did you see how happy he was?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well it’s not like you’ve given me much choice.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh don’t be a killjoy Enj, it was fun!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Did you see how much he drank?!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“It's his birthday,” interjected Combeferre._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Basing on how much he drinks, every day is his birthday.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Grantaire heard enough. He wanted to turn around and leave, but his legs failed him cruelly. He tripped and knocked over the vase with his birthday flowers (a gift from Cosette)._ _ _ _ _ _

______The three of them rushed out of the kitchen._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Are you okay?” asked Combeferre._ _ _ _ _ _

______“How much did you hear?” asked Jehan._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Just how drunk are you, Grantaire?” asked Enjolras._ _ _ _ _ _

______He decided not to grace any of them with an answer. He walked into Enjolras’ room, where all of their jackets were stashed. He was angry and had way too much to drink. He wanted to go home, take a shower and maybe, just maybe sober up. (Or more likely drink himself into the oblivion.)_ _ _ _ _ _

______He couldn’t find his coat. He looked everywhere, but it was almost as his coat turned into The Cloak of Invisibility. Tears of anger were gathering up in his eyes, he just wanted to find his fucking coat and leave. He was starting to get dizzy. Where the fuck was his coat?!_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Is that what you’re looking for?” asked Enjolras with, of course Grantaire’s coat in his hand._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Thanks,” said Grantaire through gritted teeth._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Are you sure, you’re okay to go home by yourself?” Enjolras was still annoyed, that much Grantaire could tell, but there was also something else in his eyes. Something that looked a lot like worry. But that wasn’t possible. Enjolras could never worry about Grantaire, it was against his nature._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Why? Is mighty Apollo offering me his bed?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______And just like that the worry was gone._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Go home, Grantaire.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“As you wish.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______At least that was Grantaire’s original plan. But as he was taking the coat from Enjolras, his inside twisted. He felt a pang of pain and suddenly there was bitterness in his mouth. And before he could do something about it, like running to the toilet or jumping out of the window, he was vomiting. He threw up on Enjolras's trousers shoes. Even worse, he threw up on Enjolras’ thesis. The one that he worked on for ten days now. The one that he was very proud of. The one that he had written not on the computer, but in his notebook._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Grantaire managed to mutter, before passing out on the carpet._ _ _ _ _ _

______✳✳✳_ _ _ _ _ _

______Shame creeps up on Grantaire’s face and he just wants to disappear. The Cloak of Invisibility would be very helpful now._ _ _ _ _ _

______“God Enjolras… yesterday… I was so out of it… I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. Your thesis, your carpet, your trousers… I swear I will fix it!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Enjolras ignores him completely. He passes him by, and sits on his bed. He leaves the bedroom door open. Grantaire takes it as an invitation._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I am really sorry! I fucked up!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yes you did,” is Enjolras’ only answer. His face is blank, his eyes freezing cold. Grantaire wants to crawl under a rock and die._ _ _ _ _ _

______They stay like that for a few minutes. Grantaire showered in guilt and shame, Enjolras resentful and mildly disgusted._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I can’t deal with that right now,” announces Enjolras, standing up from his bed. “There’s something for you on my desk. I didn’t get to give you that yesterday. We’ll talk when you’re sober.” He heads out to the door, shooting the last look at his friend._ _ _ _ _ _

______“And Grantaire? Put some clothes on before you leave.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Only then does Grantaire realize that he’s still naked. He turns around to cover himself up and misses a tiny smirk dancing on Enjolras’ lips._ _ _ _ _ _

______✳✳✳_ _ _ _ _ _

______Later that night, when he’s back in his flat, Grantaire strokes a little box wrapped in a red paper - it’s the present he found on Enjolras's desk. He opened the other gifts earlier, most of them at the party. But not this one. He’s not sure what to expect._ _ _ _ _ _

______“If this is the 'How to Kick a Habit Right in the Nuts' book, I swear I’m going to kill him,”he says to himself tearing the paper away._ _ _ _ _ _

______His fingers tremble with anticipation as he opens the box. Inside there’s a watch. A wide banded cuff watch. Grantaire gasps; it’s perfect… and expensive…_ _ _ _ _ _

______He gently caresses black leather of the cuff and he grins like a child._ _ _ _ _ _

______There’s a Post-It note attached. He reads it with his heart pounding._ _ _ _ _ _

_______Don’t be late to our meetings ever again._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______xxx Enjolras. ____ _ _ _ _ _

________He clutches the note and a wide grin appears on his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first part...  
> As you can probably (deifinitely) tell english is NOT my first language. So every single one of my mistakes is caused by my total inability to learn ANY foreign language.  
> Oh, and I've been to Paris only once so I moved them to London (I don't live there, but I'm very familliar with it.)  
> LOVE YOU ALL XXX  
> EDIT: SO...MANY...TYPOS... sorry it was 5 a.m. here when I finished....


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